


The Lover and the Beloved

by lorryspence



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Olympics, Pining, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:07:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25499572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorryspence/pseuds/lorryspence
Summary: Akaashi swallows hard and nods, averting his eyes from the shame. "Akaashi, it's just been three days." Nonetheless, Osamu unties his apron and moves forward to the man, all too familiar that Akaashi wouldn't initiate without his permission.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Miya Osamu
Comments: 16
Kudos: 76





	The Lover and the Beloved

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first one-shot! I did this on the spot for my friends in the midst of a chat and it just magically came together. Thank you friends for being my beta readers! For everyone else, I hope you enjoy regardless of the tags hehehe!

Akaashi is crestfallen. He grips his hands into a fist as he walks across the street. Still filled with tension and anxiety over his last call with Bokuto last night, Akaashi attempts to relieve himself in the best way he knows how. Onigiri.

He clasps on the handle and pushes himself forward, revealing the telltale face of an old friend. "Osamu." The only person he never needed to add a san to because they knew each other too intimately before.

The man in black lifts his gaze and quirks his back up with a serious face because he knows Akaashi's arrival only means one thing. "Problems with Bokuto?"

Akaashi swallows hard and nods, averting his eyes from the shame. "Akaashi, it's just been three days." Nonetheless, Osamu unties his apron and moves forward to the man, all too familiar that Akaashi wouldn't initiate without his permission.

Osamu places a gentle hand on his shoulder, feeling the slight tremble in the man's frame. He crinkles his eyes, uncertain anymore of the ethics of all of this, but it would have to do. It would have to do for Akaashi. He swallows hard.

"Okay. I get it."

He grabs Akaashi's hand and leads him out the door. They circle to the side of the building towards a staircase leading to units. In one fell swoop, they arrive in Osamu's apartment, bereft of their shoes and coats.

Akaashi, with much familiarity, navigates towards the living room where he kneels by the coffee table, hands in a fist.

Osamu sighs as he approaches the kitchen. It's just been three days since the Olympics started and Akaashi had had already been in a daze. Osamu prepares a kettle and heats it up for some tea as he looks over Akaashi, still waiting resolutely with eyes narrowed on the closed television.

It was all too amusing if not for the context. Osamu decides to break the silence.

“You know-" he begins hesitantly. "It's just the two of us here."

He gulps down the lump in his throat as he carefully dissects his next words.

“Akaashi-" he begins again, hoping the next words will break through.

"It's okay. It's okay for you to cry."

Akaashi's lips that were once pulled into a thin line quivered at the ends until they completely curled into a contorted mess unleashing inscrutable sobs. His once calm demeanor finally breaks. No. It erupts.

Tears spill from his eyes as his mouth releases a wail and pain only those heartbroken would know. Osamu does not seem fazed. In fact, he finds it relieving that, at the very least, Akaashi trusted him enough to show such a face.

The kettle top blows and Osamu pours the steaming water into cups of tea leaves. He approaches Akaashi quite casually, so casually that you would say it seemed blasé. However, it's this practiced and procedural aspect that comforts Akaashi. The man softens his sobs as Osamu sits on the floor with him and hands him a warm cup.

"Hey pretty thing, won't you tell me first what your boyfriend did to make you cry again?" Osamu muses as he props up an arm to cradle his head.

Akaashi squints, trickling tears into well flushed cheeks.

"Osamu-" he croaks. "I just-" Akaashi breaks in mid-sentence, recalling the heated talks with Bokuto. The Olympics was something they had hoped for, but the last thing they expected were the infamous sexual relations of athlete being of any problem between them. Of course Akaashi had faith in Bokuto, but there's a difference between knowing and feeling.

Akaashi felt he couldn't live with the intangibility of faith alone. He wanted Bokuto with him then and there.

Akaashi muffles his erratic sobs as he holds on to Osamu, attempting to communicate his thoughts. Osamu embraces the wailing mess of Akaashi, enveloping him in his warm and burly arms. He lets the man dig into him, stain his shirt with tears and sweat and tremble against his skin. Stroking the raven-haired man's back, he attempts to calm him with a hum- a hum his own mother used on him so long ago.

The soothing melody becomes a guide to Akaashi's breathing. It coaxes the man to follow its beat until the rise of his chest becomes almost rhythmic. "Shhh. It's okay Akaashi. Take your time." Osamu says as he nuzzles his chin over the top of Akaashi's raven tresses.

In that moment, Osamu allowed himself one reprieve. That was to indulge in holding Akaashi, the man he had come to love, in spite of knowing that he would never be equally loved back. The fact was Akaashi would always love Bokuto. That was fine.

Osamu had come to terms with that condition a long time ago. However, he couldn't quite shake one thing. 'Is it so wrong to want to be beside the person you care for the most? Even if it's a little bit?' Osamu muses as he combs his fingers through Akaashi silk tresses, brushing it away from the man's tears and sweat.

Seconds bleed into minutes before Akaashi could thoroughly calm himself. He breaks away from Osamu and looks intently towards the man with a new fire in his eye.

He croaks "Do you think I'm crazy? Do you think I'm a big mess for-" he pauses. "For merely missing him, wanting to be beside him, making sure I'm the only one he'll ever be sleeping with!?" Akaashi finishes.

Osamu lifts a gentle smile and crinkles his eyes to his love. "No." He says with his lips. 'Aren't I the same too?' He says with his mind as it seemed laughable that he was comforting Akaashi over the same issue he had been frustrating himself with recently.

They continue like that for a while, talking in hushed tones about Akaashi's thoughts and bouts of insecurity. Osamu does his best to respond knowing full well that he practically empathizes on a literal level. He too wants to be beside the person he loves.

He looks at Akaashi.

It was ironic that in that space Akaashi and Osamu were two different examples of distance between the lover, the lover who was away and the lover who would never be loved back.

You could all debate to a certain degree about which would be far less painful than the other, however, it could never be disputed that both souls would nonetheless feel pain. It was in that pain that Akaashi and Osamu had grown intimately close.

It was in that pain that Osamu found gratefulness in the fleeting memory of this love. Even if it was painful love, it was still love.

The day was looming to an end as orange rays seeped into the room. The two men had finished their little talk and found comfort in simply being. Akaashi was the first one who lifted himself for Osamu's chest.

"Thank you Osamu. Thank you for listening. I always just-"

Osamu quirked a brow waiting for Akaashi to finish.

"I always just run to you. You make me feel good. You make me feel good about not feeling good." Akaashi nurses a faint blush as he looks towards the door. "You make me feel that it's okay to be a burden every now and then. I don't know if I'll ever find a person who makes me feel at peace even if I'm not in peace."

Osamu's chest is struck hard by the thought, but he endures the pain to simply usher Akaashi out the door.

"You always have Bokuto." He offhandedly muses, nuancing that he was not the only one who would accept him so fully.

"No." Akaashi interjects before shrugging on his coat, catching Osamu off guard. The raven-haired man approaches Osamu and lands a pale, cold hand against his cheek.

Osamu slightly shivers at the touch.

Akaashi nears his face, closing the inches into centimeters until he lands a sweet and chaste peck on the grown man's cheek.

"Osamu, only you can ever make me feel this way."

Just like that. Akaashi shuts the door. However, in doing so, he had slowly left the door to Osamu's heart ajar.

The man shakes his head as he gazes down the floor to get his bearings. Quietly, he cries. Specks of salt and sadness drop to the wooden floor.

"Only you can make me feel this way too Akaashi."

Osamu realized there are souls in this world that you are only meant to love alone.

**Author's Note:**

> I love reading all kinds of literature and poetry. This last line was the only revision I made from the beta-reading. I took it from my own take when I was reading Rumi. There will definitely be souls you meet in your lifetime that you are only meant to love alone and, in spite of that, I hope you cherish the fleeting moment. Every pain, sorrow and loss is a step closer to transforming yourself to the lover you were meant to be with. 
> 
> Ahahaha on a lighter note, I'm keeping this as a one-shot. I'll leave the possibility of 'Samu meeting his lover up to you! Thank you for reading!


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